


Methos Chronicles 9

by Helis_von_Askir



Series: Methos Chronicles [9]
Category: Highlander - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: Nothing lasts forever.
Series: Methos Chronicles [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1350058
Kudos: 13





	Methos Chronicles 9

**Author's Note:**

> I don't anything, I just borrowed Methos to play with him a bit.

When Methos and Murron arrived at Mac’s new house they were just in time to see Amanda storm off. She didn’t even give them a glance though she had to have felt Methos presence.

“Trouble in paradise?” the oldest Immortal asked MacLeod innocently when they entered.

“It’s nothing.” Mac grumbled.

“Really? Didn’t look like nothing to me.” Methos pointed out. “Whatever you did I suggest apologizing profoundly, with flowers, an expensive dinner and even more expensive jewelry.”

“I did nothing wrong.” Mac pointed out.

“Of course you did something wrong. Such things are always the guy’s fault. Have you learned nothing in the last four hundred years?” Methos wanted to know while Murron tried hard to not start laughing.

“Listen, Old Man, I know you mean well, but 68 wives or not, keep your pearls of wisdom to yourself. I deal with Amanda on my own.” Mac told him with forced patience.

“You had 68 wives?” Murron blurted.

“You haven’t told her?” Mac asked surprised.

Methos shrugged. “Not the details. Why would I?”

“Don’t you see something wrong with that picture?” Murron spoke up as she recovered from her shock. “I mean, 68 wives!”

“No, not really. Most societies think it’s a good thing to marry.” Methos pointed out. It appeared that he really didn’t get the point. Which wasn’t unknown to happen now and then.

“But did you love them?” Murron wanted to know.

Methos shrugged again. “Most of them, sure. Some, not so much.”

“68 wives.” Murron kept muttering under her breath. They were back home and Methos was making dinner, but she just couldn’t let it go. “When were you married the last time?” She wanted to know.

“About twenty years ago. Her name was Alexa.” Methost old her without looking away from his cooking.

“What happened?” Murron asked.

Methos sighted. “She died, cancer. She wasn’t even thirty.”

“I’m so sorry.” Murron whispered. She should have known shouldn’t she? He was five thousand years old, of course his wives were all dead. That had to hurt, especially if he loved them.

“It’s okay.” He assured her. “She’s…she can’t get hurt anymore.”

“Tell me about the first one.” Murron demanded once they were in bed for the night.

“The first one what?” Methos asked confused.

Rolling her eyes she snuggled up to him. “Your first wife.”

“Why?” he wanted to know. “Did Joe put you up to this? Nosy old Watcher that he is.”

Murron giggled. “No, I’m curious. Tell me about them. Or at least the first one. Did you love her very much?”

“Why the first?” Methos asked.

Murron shrugged. “Got to start somewhere.”

Sighing Methos put his arm around her. “Fine, but not a word of this to MacLeod or Joe. First of all I don’t really remember all the way back, so it’s possible I was married before but the first I remember relatively clearly was Ashkar.”

Uruk, Sumer, ca. 2.800 BC

Cresting the last rise before him, Methos looked down on the city of Uruk. It had changed in the last couple of hundred of seasons. Growing bigger for one. The houses looked more solid too. The city was clearly prospering. The walls alone were testament to that. Methos had never seen a wall that long before.

With a sigh Methos started on the last leg of his journey. He would find loggings for tonight and tomorrow he would see about starting a new life here. He had not stayed in a city as big as this before. He had preferred to stay with his tribe traveling the land. They had visited many settlements to trade but never stayed long. But now they were gone and Methos had to live on. It was going to be a new experience, living in a city, not moving around every few days. He was looking forward to it.

Joining the long line of farmers and merchants waiting to be allowed into the city, he pondered what he should do, or could to. He as good with animals, his skill with sword and axe unmatched in his tribe. And that was saying something. Nomads were often considered easy prey for bandits but not his tribe, every man, woman and child knew how to fight and they had grown strong because of it.

But it had not stopped the fever. One day it had come and taken more than half of the tribe in less than a moon. The survivors kept going for three more cycles before a new sickness took them. Methos had buried them where they had camped and then let the animals go. He could not take them with him anyway. All he took from the tribe were his weapons, the copper and silver and a few pieces of simple jewelry. Enough to get him started somewhere else. He hoped that Uruk would be that place.

Many moons had passed and Methos had settled well into the city. He had started as apprentice to one of the smiths in the city and had taken over the business from his master a few weeks past and was now making the best weapons money could buy.

And he needed to charge a lot, Bronze was not easy to come by since everyone wanted it. Luckily he was making most of his weapons for the king and his men, they always had gold to spare from one war or another.

But the best sword, his masterpiece, he kept for himself. It did not look like much, there were no ornamentation and such, it was a simple straight blade with a small cross-guard. The best weapons were not the shiny ones but he ones your enemy underestimated or better even, never saw coming.

There were two other Immortals living in Uruk. Tyrael, a woman he knew from times long gone by and her students, a woman called Maliva. She had only recently died when some donkeys had panicked and trampled her and a few others.

Methos got along fine with both of them. They often trained together and he made them both new, well-balanced swords, for which Tyrael paid good silver.

“I will soon have to send Maliva away. She’s getting restless here.” Tyrael told him one evening when they were enjoying a cup of wine on the roof of his house.

“Can you blame her? We keep talking about all the things we have seen and done and she had never really gotten out of the city.” Methos shrugged. “She can’t stay under your protection forever, anyway.”

Tyrael sighed. “I know, she is just so reckless. If she would just think before acting.”

“She’s young, she’ll learn. Or lose her head. Not much you can do about it.” Methos pointed out. “Nor should you. It’s her life.”

Tyrael looked at him annoyed. “You could at least pretend to care.”

Methos shrugged again. “I care, I just think she’s old enough to make her own decisions and deal with the consequences. We all have to.”

“Like your upcoming wedding?” Tyrael wanted to know.

“What has that to do with anything?” Methos asked surprised.

“You made the decision to get drunk with the king and now you have to face the consequences and marry his sister.” Tyrael pointed out.

“It’s not like his sisters are ugly. I’m sure we can work something out.” Methos defended himself. “Once I know which one I get to marry.”

“I just can’t imagine you married and settled down.” Tyrael mused.

“Who said anything about settling down? You think me a farmer ploughing the fields?” Methos asked. “No, smithing is suiting me much better, and that means a lot of work in the smithy. My wife will stay in the palace and basically nothing will change in our lives aside that I will seep there too when I finish early.”

“With your wife.” Tyrael added with a smile.

“Jealous?” Methos grinned at her.

Tyrael scoffed. “In your dreams.”

The king, generous as he was, gave Methos his oldest sister Ashkar as wife. The oldest meant fifteen. Tyrael rolled her eyes at him, as if she had been any older when she had been married off for the first time.

“She’s probably a virgin too.” She whispered to Maliva during the banquet and the other Immortal had to force herself to keep a straight face. This was serious business as far as the mortals were concerned. Methos heard her but ignored her. Tyrael’s choices in husbands hadn’t always been all that great either.

Ashkar was not exactly a sweet little girl. She was the sister of the king and behaved accordingly. Methos didn’t mind, he didn’t see all that much of her since he worked most of the day. And at night, well, his wife enjoyed his attention then quite a bit.

“I heard Maliva is leaving. She said after they had exhausted themselves.

“Hmm, Tyrael found her a husband in Ur.” Methos told her sleepily. That was the story the three had agreed on. No one needed to know that Maliva was taking up wandering. A lone woman out in the wild, not something anyone in his right mind would spread around.

“Why? I don’t understand these two.” Ashkar said. “Why is Tyrael not married herself?”

Methos sat up with a sigh. “Because she doesn’t want another one. Her last one died only weeks after the wedding. Don’t worry, she’ll change her mind eventually.”

“Are you sharing her bed?” Ashkar asked suspiciously.

“No, you’re more than enough for me.” He assured her. Oh, he slept with Tyrael now and then, and why not? But not in the last few seasons. They just didn’t feel like it. And Maliva was off-limits because Tyrael had threatened to cut his manhood off should he even try. Talk about a protective streak.

“But you spend a lot of time with her.” Ashkar said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“I do, because she’s my friend.” Methos replied and grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. “And you’re my life. I’m not confusing those two.”

Present Day

“She sounds like a bit of a dragon.” Murron commented when Methos had finished.

Methos smiled. “She was, but great in bed.”

Murron boxed his shoulder. “Not what I wanted to hear. What about the other two? Tyrael and Maliva?”

“Well, I was never married to them. Or to any other Immortal woman. Too much of a commitment for me.” Methos told her. It was what he always told others, along with Ashkar being his first wife. There were thing he just preferred to keep to himself.

Murron rolled her eyes. “Did you ever have affairs with them?”

“Yes, several times over the years. Good friends are so hard to find.” Methos told her evenly.

“They’re still alive, right?” Murron wanted to know sounding unsure.

“Tyrael is.” Methos replied quietly.

“And Maliva?”

“Is not.” He sighed. “Can we leave it at that for now?” he knew that Murron was curious but Maliva’s death still hurt badly. It had only been four years. He had not even told MacLeod or Joe about her. It was too personal for him yet.

Rome, Italy, 2010

The music was blaring from the speakers while Methos painted the day away. It had been a long while since he had made his living as an artist, but the mood had struck him and so far he had not regretted it. He was on a roll for the last couple of years and was slowly building up a pool of buyers and they paid well for his works.

The ringing of the phone disrupted the music and with an annoyed sigh, Methos put the brush down and picked the offending device up.

His annoyance disappeared when he saw the number. “What happened?” he asked upon picking up.

“Maliva is dead.” Tyrael told him with a deadly quiet voice.

Methos closed his eyes for a moment at that news. “Who?” he wanted to know. Whoever it was he or she better found a very deep hole to hide in.

“Some newbie, Seth Jobs. He shot her in the back and then took he head.” Tyrael explained. “He’s on the run now.”

“That won’t save him.” Methos stated calmly. “The funeral?”

“In two days on Malta.” Tyrael informed him.

Methos smiled sadly though his friend could not see it. “She loved that island.”

“She did.” Tyrael agreed. “She would want to be buried there. And then we hunt.”

“And then we hunt.” Methos echoed.

Malta was beautiful, as always. Maliva had owed a nice little bay with a stunning view of the sea. Her sanctuary. A place she had come to whenever she wanted to retreat from the world over the centuries. Now she would rest here for eternity. Tyrael had made sure of that.

“Any leads on Jobs?” Methos asked. After the funeral he and Tyrael had come to the veranda of Maliva’s house, Tyrael’s now.

“Yes, it would appear he’s not completely incompetent when it comes to covering his tracks.” Tyrael told him. “But I did manage to track down his current location.”

“Where is he then?” Methos contemplated how he would kill that little piece of shit before taking his head in the depths of his drink.

“Rio de Janeiro. Not a bad place to disappear for a few decades. But I doubt he will venture far from civilization. Everything indicates he’s a love child of the 20th century.” Tyreal explained.

They arrived in Rio de Janeiro two days later. Jobs wasn’t hard to find in the city, he sued a fake name, but facial recognition software was not hard to come by these days and the security of the Brazilian Immigration computer system didn’t even present a challenge to the two old Immortals. And once they had his fake name and credit card number they knew where he was staying.

“Most expensive hotel in town.” Methos said. “Bound to have some security.”

“Not for those young ladies.” Tyrael pointed out. They were playing tourists and watched the hotel from a park opposite the building complex. “I suggest you get a room while I check out the _security_.”

With a nod Methos headed to the front entrance, while Tyrael got rid of her excess clothes and made her way to the rear of the hotel following a couple of young, pretty woman who a blind man could see where hookers.

Tyrael didn’t even have to lash anything to get in. The guard only felt her up quickly and then waved her on.

“I’m in room 714. Jobs is two floors above me.” Methos said in his cell, looking out of the window. He had a nice little program on his phone that could hack into something as simple as booking system within five seconds.

“Well, what a coincidence. Guess where the hookers are heading.” Tyrael replied, strolling down the hallway to the staircase. Elevators were for paying guests not for _independent workers_.

“Really, all of them?” Methos scoffed. “He thinks very highly of himself, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he does. Why don’t you come up too and join the fun?” Tyrael asked and smiled at the waiter the bellboy who blushed furiously, he was probably new to the job.

“I might just do that.” Methos agreed. They had to be careful, the moment Jobs would feel one of them he would either start shooting people or run. Methos put his money on the later. He knew people like Jobs, they always preferred to run if they didn’t control the encounter, though that didn’t meant he wouldn’t try to shoot them too.

When Jobs did feel them coming, he indeed tried to run. He saw Methos first coming down the corridor and ran into the opposite direction where Tyrael was already waiting for him. Jobs cast frightened glances from on to the other.

“Two against one, that’s against the rules!” he shouted at them.

“So is shooting your opponent.” Tyrael replied. “But go ahead, pick one of us. The other will stay out of it.”

Jobs didn’t look like he believed her. “And you’ll let me go when I win?” he wanted to know.

“Don’t be stupid.” Methos said. “You’ll die today, not matter what. Now choose.”

But Jobs decided that it was not a good day to die. He drew a gun and started shooting at Tyrael who barely avoided being hit by jumping aside. Jobs took his chance and ran, Methos hot on his heels. Tyreal followed only moments later. They cornered him at the harbor where, how convenient, several empty warehouses stood just waiting to be destroyed by a good Quickening.

“Not that this wasn’t fun, but really, you think you can outrun us?” Tyrael wanted to know.

If this wasn’t what it was, Methos really would have stopped to stare at her. He was only a guy, after all and she looked hot in that tight outfit and a sword in her hands. It also finally seemed to sink in with Jobs that he was done for, because he couldn’t take his eye off her, but for a completely different reasons.

“Fine, I never had two Quickenings in one day. It will be fun.” Jobs sneered and turned to Methos. “You first.”

Methos shrugged and looked at Tyrael. “Fine by me.”

The fight didn’t last long. Jobs wasn’t very good when he couldn’t cheat. At one point he did to go for a gun and shoot Methos but the old Immortal easily disarmed him. Without further ado Methos brought him to his knees and took his head.

Tyrael stood back and watched passionless as the Quickening descended onto Methos.

Present Day

Methos knew that Murron was curious about Maliva and Tyrael but she thankfully did not press the issue. At least not yet.

And he really didn’t want to talk about it. Maliva was a very sore point and Tyrael, well, there was a reason only a handful of people knew who she was.

Muron and he were at on their way to Les Blues Bar when he felt the presence of another Immortal drew near.

“Head to the bar, Murron, I’ll be right along.” He told her.

“Who is it?” Murron wanted to know.

Methos fingered the hilt of his sword hidden in his coat. “I’ll see soon enough.”

“But not a friend?” she ventured.

“Very, very unlikely.” Methos replied. “Go on, I’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words.” A male voice came from the shadow of an alley. “I was close to giving up finding you but then I got lucky.” The man stepped into the light of the street lamps. He was of Middle Eastern look but that didn’t mean a lot with Immortals.

“And you’re telling me this why exactly?” Methos wanted to know. “I don’t even know you.”

“I’m Lars Jansen and you killed my student, Seth Jobs, you and that bitch of yours.” The man hissed.

Methos sighed. “Unlike your student, I gave him a fair fight and he lost.”

“And now you will die and then your bitch.” Jansen threatened with a look at Murron who still stood there like frozen.

“Wrong bitch.” Methos calmly informed him.

Jansen looked at him confused for a moment. “No matter, I’ll find her.”

“Oh, for your sake, I hope not.” Methos said. “Bu I guess this will be a moot point soon enough.”

Murron ran but not far. She just couldn’t. She needed to see, to make sure Alessandro won. The thought of waiting at the bar without knowing if he lived or not was impossible. It had been when the last one had challenged him right in front of their home and it was now. She stopped and hid behind a dumpster, from where she could watch.

Alessandro and Jansen were circling each other warily and Murron wondered what would happen if someone were to walk in on them. Nothing good probably.

Jansen delivered the first blow, which Alessandro easily parried. This went back and forth for a while. Then Jansen suddenly attacked with a series of hard, quick blows that drove Alessandro back and Murron had to bite her hand hard not to cry out.

Alessandro wasn’t fazed, though, he let Jansen come again and then broke through the other man’s defense and landed several deep cuts to Jansen’s arms and legs. Not deadly, but painful and distracting.

Jansen cured and tried to disengage from the fight to recover but Alessandro didn’t let him. He came after Jansen until the other man stumbled and went down on one knee. Alessandro then brought the blade down on his neck.

Murron averted her eyes, unwilling to watch the beheading. She imagined she could hear the had hit the ground, or maybe she did hear it because it was suddenly completely quiet.

She slowly stood up and took a step forward when the first blast of lightning hit Alessandro. And they just kept coming.

Once the Quickening was over Methos staggered back to his feet and walked over to Murron. He had known she hadn’t let but forced himself to ignore her during the fight. “Are you alright?” He asked her when he was at her side.

“Am I alright?” Murrron repeated incredulous. “Am I alright? You’re the one who just doubled as lightning rod.” She looked around. “What now?”

Methos gently took her arm. “Now, we go home.”

“But Joe and Duncan…” Murron started.

“Will understand. I’ll call them, but we need to leave now.” Methos insisted. Being found next to a headless body was a bad idea, especially if you were the one separating head from body. Let the police or the Watchers deal with it, whoever got to the body first.

Joe and Mac were very understanding. Though Mac was pretty upset that he had not been there to take the fight on himself. Methos suppressed the urge to tell the Highlander to stick his shining armor where the sun didn’t shine.

Of course the two mother-hens would be around the first thing in the morning but Methos would deal with that when they showed up. For now he had Murron to look after. First he sent her to take a long shower while he put on some tea and something stronger to add to it.

She had not said much on the way home, which was to be expected. He hoped she would want to talk later on. Being peppered with questions was better than being shut out.

And witnessing a Quickening was, for most people, something they would, needed, to talk about, inquire about. Because if she didn’t he feared he knew where it would end.

Murron woke up with a start, drenched in sweat. The clock on the bedside table read three in the morning. She had dreamed about the fight, nightmare was more a accurate term. It had been horrible watching Alessandro kill that man. She knew he had killed before, that’s how they met, after all. But to see it herself. It was just something she had not expected to ever witness.

The whiskey earlier had helped her to fall asleep but she didn’t think she could go back to it now. When she turned around she found Alessandro calmly watching her.

“Bad dream?” he whispered.

Murron nodded. But it was more than that. She just didn’t know how to put it into words. “Do you have nightmares too?” she asked instead.

He smiled sadly. “Far too often. I just learned to live with them.”

Over the next weeks, Murron withdrew more and more into herself. Methos saw it but there was nothing he could do. Murron was either coming to terms with what he really was, or not. He could not change what he was. And to him it started to look like she could not. It was not her fault, not everyone could deal with the reality of immortality, and all that came with it, no matter how hard they tried. And Methos really appreciated how hard Murron tried, but it wasn’t going to work, they both had to face that.

“It’s okay, you know.” He told her. “You feel what you feel.”

For a long moment, Murron refused to look up from her laptop. “It’s not fair. I mean, I knew what I was getting into. And now I feel like such a liar because I can’t deal with it. I feel so stupid.”

Methos took her into his arms. “You’re not stupid. It’s just the way it is.”

Murron leaned back against him. “I wanted this to work, Alessandro. I _do_ love you.”

“I love you too.” Methos assured her. “But sometimes that’s not enough for it to work out. No matter how hard we try. It’s just the way it is. And I think it’s time we admit defeat.”

Murron closed her eyes. “I know.”

Babylon, Persia, 1.760 BC

Entering the palace behind the guards, Methos looked around with keen interest. It had been a while since he had been in Babylon and in that time the city had grown considerable. As had the palace. The current king, Hammurabi he was called, was ambitious and it showed in the new palace and temples.

And an ambitious king always had need of ambitious men among his followers. And Methos could be whatever Hammurabi needed him to be. He only had to convince the mortal of that.

“Wait here.” One of the guards ordered and disappeared through a door.

Methos did not have to wait long. The guard then led him into what appeared to be the general audience chamber, going by the size of it. At the far end the king was studying a map on a table while behind him a group of women were either lounging around or playing some instruments. Going by the richness of their clothes and jewels they had to be some of his wives. Like every good king he had a sizeable harem.

As he drew nearer Methos felt the presence of another of his kind. Letting his gaze travel over those present, he realized he knew one of the wives. Maliva gave him a quick nod and then ignored him, focusing back on playing her flute.

“My king, the scholar from the east.” The guard announced and Methos bowed to the man who could secure his life for the foreseeable future.

“You do not look like you came from the east.” Hammurabi stated unimpressed.

“No, king but I lived along the mighty river Ganges for many years and travelled the lands south of it.” Methos told him. And he had, more than once.

“Many years.” The king scoffed. “You look barely old enough to grow a proper beard.”

Methos bowed again. “You are too kind, king.”

Hammurabi laughed. “Well said. What are you called, scholar?”

“Arkan, king.” Methos told him.

“Just Arkan? No father?” Hammurabi asked curios.

“None I care to mention.” Methos replied with a little smile.

“I like you, Arkan.” The king said and went back to the map on the table. “Now, I have a little problem here, and I would like to hear your opinion on it.”

Methos happily obliged. This was his chance to get into Hammurabi’s good graces.

The problem had been an easy one. Merely a little test to see if Methos could deliver what he had promised. Afterwards he had been invited to dine with the king and his court. It was a lavish affair with more food than those present could possible eat. A sign of just how rich and powerful the king was.

The dinner ended when Hammurabi took the hand of one of his wives and led her towards his chambers, under much cheering from the court, of course. Methos took the chance to slip out onto the terrace to get some fresh air.

“Impressed yet?” Maliva asked following him.

Methos shrugged. “The city has grown a lot, and the king is very ambitious. And he is intelligent enough to enlarge his kingdom in a smart manner.”

Maliva nodded. “All true…and also why you’re here.”

“Indeed.” Methos agreed. “But why are you here? I never thought I would find you of all people living in a harem.”

Maliva smiled sadly. “Life had become somewhat…exhausting. I needed a respite from it.”

“And have you found it?” Methos wanted to know.

“Yes, funnily enough I did.” Maliva replied. “For three cycles I have lived here and the king has shared my bed twice in that time. As good a life as one of us can hope to find.”

“But lonely, it the king only visited you twice.” Methos pointed out.

Maliva stepped close to him. “Well, now that you are here, you can change that.”

Bedding Maliva could get him killed, Methos knew that. You didn’t lie with another man’s wife, especially if that other man was the king. But Hammurabi had dozens of wives and concubines and most of them had a lover or two. And somehow Hammurabi didn’t mind, because there was no way he didn’t know about at least a few of them. He would not be still on the throne if he were blind to such things.

Whatever the reason, Methos was glad for it. It had been many moons since he had had last shared his bed with someone and Maliva was an old friend which allowed him to trust her further than most others. But they still had to make sure not to be seen. The king could overlook only so much.

After the first few weeks he became a constant member of the court. The other advisers and high-ranking officials were naturally suspicious of him. Had he come to take the place of one of them? It took some work on Methos’ part to convince them otherwise. He only offered advice when directly asked and he made sure to formulate his answers in a manner that caused no offence. That made his advance at court slow but steady. Others rose faster and fell even faster.

One of the other few constants was Johkna of Arcadia. He oversaw the treasury and was watching jealously over his position and power.

“I would get rid of him if I could.” Hammurabi confided to Methos once. “But he and his family hold power, especially in the north. Thy could lead half the country in rebellion against me.”

“Then why not bind him to you?” Methos asked. “You have enough sisters and daughters.”

Hammurabi had sighed. “Wouldn’t that be nice, but he already has three wives he completely ignores. And even if he didn’t prefer young, shapely men, I can’t give one of my daughters as a fourth wife, it would be an insult to me.”

“Ah, too bad then.” Methos had leaned back in his chair. “Maybe the gods will find a way.”

Either Johkna had learned of this conversation or he simple was that paranoid but he hated Methos and never hid it, not even from the king. That Hammurabi was taking Methos more and more into his confidence was not helping. Nor that after a night of drinking heavily the king took Methos to his bed. The Immortal as not foolish enough to say no.

“Am I not enough for you?” Maliva wanted to know. There was no such thing as privacy when it came to the king’s bed.

Methos shrugged. “He offered. Should I have said no?”

Maliva grimaced. “No, of course not. But it’s not going to endear you to Johkna. He has been trying for a long time to get into Hammurabi’s bed.”

Methos scoffed. “I would have thought the king too old for Johkna’s tastes.”

“Ah, the sacrifices we make for power.” Maliva stated.

Methos smiled. “So true.”

Johkna tried to discredit Methos every way he could. He even told the king that Methos was sleeping with the king’s favorite wife. Not that the woman was ugly, far from it, but Methos was not interested in that scheming lioness, he had Maliva, after all.

Hammurabi dismissed all those rumors and accusations. He knew Johkna and he knew, well, not Methos, but Arkan, a young, honest man. But Johkna was not a man willing to give up. And since he could not get Hammurabi to exile or better yet, execute, Methos, he decided to go for the permanent solution himself.

One night Methos was walking from the temple to the palace on some small errand when a dozen men stepped out from the dark and attacked him. Methos managed to kill an injure several of them before one of them got lucky and landed a killing blow.

When he woke up again he found himself lying in a stable with Maliva sitting next to him. Wordlessly she handed him his sword and a pack for travelling. With a sight he took everything, gave Maliva a long kiss and slipped unseen out of Babylon.

Present Day

They did not immediately split up. Murron needed time to find a new place to live. Methos had offered her to stay and he would move into one of his other properties in the city. But Murron didn’t want to stay. She needed as clean a break as possible.

Therefore when Professor Beltman called just a couple of days after to offer her a job back in the States she didn’t have to think long before saying yes.

“When are you going to leave?” Methos asked. He had hoped they could at least stay friends, but if she was willing to leave the continent and put an ocean between them then maybe he had been wrong.

“By the end of the week. Dr. Beltman wants me to start as soon as possible.” Murron forced a smile. “I want us to stay friends, Alessandro, but this is a great opportunity for me, and frankly, I think I need some distance, to put everything into perspective, you know.”

Methos nodded. “I get that. I’m just…I hate it when things don’t work out.”

“Me too.” Murron sighed. “I’ll stay in contact, I promise.”

End


End file.
